


Old Habits

by lunanimal



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, F/M, OJS air, Word Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21989701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunanimal/pseuds/lunanimal
Summary: When Arthur learns Theresa and Martin have split up, he mobilizes OJS to set things right. After all, you can't break up onChristmas.
Relationships: Carolyn Knapp-Shappey/Herc Shipwright, Martin Crieff/Theresa of Liechtenstein
Comments: 16
Kudos: 31
Collections: Fandot Secret Santa: 2019 Edition





	Old Habits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bendy_CA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bendy_CA/gifts).



> This was written as a Fandot Secret Santa gift for Bendy_CA, who requested "MJN (or OJS w/ Martin) hanging out together and being a happy family" and "Martin doing something really really awkward. His partner loving him even more because of it" - I hope this fits the bill!

“Mum! Herc! Wake up!”  
  
Carolyn pretended to sleep for a moment longer than she really did, bracing herself for the Christmas Morning Arthur Spectacular. She opened her eyes and saw Herc beside her, sat up against the headboard. He smiled as he earnestly awaited Arthur’s performance. Carolyn positively seethed with affection.  
  
“Get up!” Arthur insisted. “It’s Martin! It’s an emergency!”  
  
Carolyn sat up, rousing Snoopadoop. “What?”  
  
“What’s happened?” Herc asked, his face now grave.  
  
“He rang me last night! Only I didn’t answer because I was asleep because it would make Christmas morning come faster!” Arthur danced from foot to foot. “He left a message!”  
  
“Well?” Carolyn tried, and failed, to keep the impatience out of her voice. “What did he say?”  
  
“He and Theresa have split up!”  
  
Herc and Carolyn shared a look. It was undoubtedly bad news, but not to the magnitude they had been imagining.  
  
“Poor Martin must be heartbroken,” Herc said.  
  
“He _is._ ” Arthur seemed to settle. They were finally catching up. “So we have to go right away!”  
  
“Go?” Carolyn squawked.  
  
“To Zurich!” He gestured out the bedroom door. “So we can set it right.”  
  
“Now, Arthur,” Herc began, “I know you’re terribly upset. We all liked Theresa, and the end of a relationship is always-“  
  
“But they _can’t_ split up!” Arthur pleaded. “They love each other! And it’s Christmas!”  
  
“Well, dear, even when two people love each other, it doesn’t always work.”  
  
Arthur looked at his mother, shattered, and Carolyn looked back, as a guilt that was not her own stole over her. Under the covers, she reached for Herc’s hand.  
  
“But what could we possibly do in Zurich?” she asked.  
  
“I don’t know!” He swelled with indignation, looking very much like his mother. “That’s you lot that works it out! You always have a plan- We need Douglas! Right!” He nodded. “I’m calling him!”  
  
“Arthur, it’s-“  
  
But Arthur would not be dissuaded. He pressed the phone hard against his ear. The tone sounded once. Twice. Three-  
  
“Good morning, Arthur! Are you branching out into a telephone service-?”  
  
“Douglas, we need your help!”  
  
“Naturally,” Douglas answered coolly. “How can I assist you?”  
  
“Martin left me a message and he and Theresa had a fight and we need to go to the airfield so we can go to Zurich only Mum and Herc reckon there’s nothing we can do, so I called you!”  
  
“Arthur, take a breath before you rupture something.”  
  
Arthur breathed in deeply. Generally, he found it best to do what Douglas told him.  
  
“You’re getting awfully worked up about this,” Douglas continued. “Of course there’s something we can do.”  
  
“I knew there would be!”  
  
“Providing Carolyn will let us borrow G-ERTI, that is.”  
  
“Mum, can we borrow G-ERTI to go to Zurich?”  
  
Carolyn rose from the bed. “You will under no circumstances be _borrowing_ G-ERTI. As owner and CEO, I have decided to take G-ERTI to Zurich. Herc, stop collecting dust and get dressed!”  
  
*****  
  
“Christmas songs that could have been horror films,” Douglas announced.  
  
A vacant white sky stretched before them, making G-ERTI’s dashboard look gaudy in comparison.  
  
Herc sat back in his chair. “Oh?”  
  
“Here’s one: Silent Night.”  
  
Herc nodded. “I see… Away In A Manger.”  
  
“Do you think so?”  
  
“Yes, don’t you?”  
  
“Well, it’s-“  
  
Arthur burst in through the galley door. “Coffee, chaps!”  
  
“Thank you, Arthur.”  
  
“So!” Arthur’s eyes flicked between captain and first officer. “What’s the plan?”  
  
“I’ll need to run some diagnostics before I can get a plan in place.” Douglas accepted his coffee, which he now took with milk. Whether this new fondness for dairy was purely an effort to spite Herc- who could say? “Did you say Martin left you a voicemail?”  
  
“Yes.” Arthur pulled out his phone and played the message on speaker.  
  
“Hullo, Arthur… Sorry to call so late. It’s just that, well, Theresa and I, we’d- we’d arranged it to spend Christmas together this year, and, well, she’s upset with me, she hasn’t returned my calls, and now she hasn’t arrived, so… I was just thinking how much you liked Christmas. You actually- actually almost convinced me on it. String of good Christmases lately. But- sorry- I don’t know what I’m saying, I probably shouldn’t have called, but now I’ve already started the voicemail, so! …Happy Christmas, I suppose, is what I mean. Er- bye, then.”  
  
All the air seemed to have been sucked out of the flight deck. Martin sounded dreadful, and more than a little drunk.  
  
“Gosh,” Herc said. “It’s worse than I feared.”  
  
“Not at all, I’m rather encouraged, frankly.”  
  
“Really?” asked Arthur.  
  
“ _Tristan und Isolde_ was more encouraging,” Herc said.  
  
Douglas shook his head. “Don’t you ever listen, Hercules? Martin didn’t say they’ve split up. He said Theresa isn’t answering his calls. Now, we all know Theresa, charming girl, not one to tiptoe around the bush. If she wanted to end the relationship, she would have said so. No: what I heard in that message was _ambivalence._ An ambivalence I intend to resolve.”  
  
“And how do you intend to do that?” asked Herc, dripping with skepticism.  
  
“Don’t know yet!” Douglas answered cheerfully. “I’ll have to find out what Martin did to upset her.”  
  
*****  
  
“Arthur, did you, by chance, tell Martin we were coming?”  
  
The cab pulled away, leaving OJS huddled on a quiet residential street.  
  
“No, why?”  
  
“Well, this should be fun.” Douglas stepped forward and knocked.  
  
After a few long moments, the door swung open. Framed by the harsh yellow light of the hall, Martin stood in a sky-blue dressing gown over well-worn pajamas. “Oh…” he started. His eyes travelled over each member of OJS in turn.  
  
Arthur was immune to the discomfort that had settled over everyone else. He drew himself up, head held high, and bellowed “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” as though he were leading a charge into battle. The battalion quickly overwhelmed Martin and advanced up the stairs.  
  
“I- I wasn’t expecting company,” Martin stammered, as his four unexpected guests inspected his flat. “Or, I was, but it wasn’t- not this many, it was only meant to be…” Martin scarcely knew what to do with himself. Arthur was particularly keen on talking to him, enthusiastically describing their journey. Martin couldn’t shake him off; he knew he needed to get dressed, and comb his hair, and shave if he had the time- but then, the flat was a mess, papers and dishes all over- and perhaps he should first offer food and drink to his guests, but he really had nothing to offer.  
  
“Arthur,” Herc interjected.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Would you be so kind as get started on tea? I’m sure Martin won’t mind lending you the use of his kitchen?”  
  
“No…” Martin said faintly.  
  
“On it!” Arthur dashed away.  
  
Herc gave Martin a kind smile, then turned away from him. He asked something of Carolyn, and Martin took the opportunity to slip away.  
  
When he returned, everyone had settled in with their tea. (There were only enough seats for three; Arthur perched on the arm of the sofa.) Eight eyes landed on Martin, and waited.  
  
“I didn’t know OJS had a booking to Zurich?” Martin said, since they evidently expected him to say something.  
  
“We didn’t! We’re here to see you!” Arthur said.  
  
“Oh. Well, that was… very thoughtful…”  
  
“So tell us,” Douglas began, “why is Theresa upset with you?”  
  
“What!” Martin yelped.  
  
“The voicemail,” Arthur reminded him.  
  
“Oh, yes…” Martin dragged a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean for you all- I just wanted to tell someone- is that why you’ve come out here?”  
  
“Indeed. But we can’t help till we know what happened.” Douglas leaned forward. “Now: what did you do?”  
  
“I don’t know!” Martin said. “She was upset, her aunt’s just died, but that’s hardly my fault!”  
  
“Yes, but how did you react?” Carolyn asked.  
  
“Well, it’s not like I said something, something _tactless._ I can tell when I’ve done that.”  
  
“You’ve certainly had a lot of experience,” Douglas teased.  
  
Then Herc joined the interrogation. “Did you console her? Support her?”  
  
“Of course I did.” Martin’s fingers twisted around each other. “I’m her girl- no, she’s- I’m, I’m her boyfriend!”  
  
“Yes, but how?” Carolyn pressed.  
  
Martin gaped at her, and Herc, and Douglas, and Arthur, who all stared back. “I’m not going to get into every detail with-“  
  
“You _have_ to, Skip! So we can help!”  
  
Martin smiled in spite of himself. It had been quite a long time since anyone had called him Skip. “Well, I did the usual, I suppose. Consoling. I told her I was sorry, and, and that I loved her, and then I went to work-“  
  
It was as though he had said something obscene, the way the rest of them recoiled. Arthur yelped, “What!” as Carolyn said, “You went to _work!_ ” and as Herc sighed, “Oh, Martin.”  
  
Only Douglas kept his composure. He studied Martin carefully, saying nothing.  
  
“What, what?” Martin’s voice rose half an octave. “I had to fly the plane in two hours, and you need at least twenty-four hours’ notice to-“  
  
“You should have called in sick.” Herc chided.  
  
“Yes,” said Carolyn firmly, as though the matter were settled.  
  
“But I wasn’t sick!”  
  
“It doesn’t matter,” Douglas said, joining the reprimands at last. “Theresa needed you. You should have called in sick.”  
  
A red flush was creeping up Martin’s neck. “I’m sorry, but I am not going to _lie_ to my _superior-_ “  
  
“Sorry to interrupt, Martin,” said Douglas in an abruptly changed tone. “But it’s rather stuffy in here, don’t you think?”  
  
“Stuffy?” Martin repeated dryly. Out of habit, he kept the heat just high enough to ward off hypothermia.  
  
“Yes, quite stuffy,” Douglas continued. “I’m stepping out for a bit of fresh air, would you join me?”  
  
“Oh… Yes, thank you. Or, no, yes, of course, Douglas.”  
  
Douglas raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment. Martin did his best not to hurry as they made their way out onto the stoop.  
  
*****  
  
Jazzy holiday music and bursts of laughter, the sounds of someone else’s celebration, floated down the street to where Douglas and Martin sat braced against a harsh wind.  
  
“Yes, I see what you’re saying,” Martin said, “but Theresa’s always supported my career.”  
  
“Would you call it a career? Sorry, sorry.” Douglas backtracked, as Martin scowled. “Old habits.”  
  
“”S fine,” Martin mumbled, staring down at his hands.  
  
“Ah, but that’s just it!”  
  
“What?”  
  
_“Old habits.”_  
  
Martin stared.  
  
“Don’t you see, Martin? You’re still behaving how you did at MJN.”  
  
“How do you mean?”  
  
“Sacrificing everything for your dream.”  
  
Martin lifted his chin. “Well, yes!” He sighed, deflating again. “Flying is everything to me. And Theresa knows that about me. And I thought- I thought she loved me for it.”  
  
“She does,” Douglas said kindly. “And she loves you for the rest of you, too.”  
  
Martin laughed bitterly.  
  
“But you don’t have to throw out everything else in your life to prove to anyone you can be a pilot. You are a pilot, Martin. It’s not your dream anymore. It’s your reality.”  
  
Martin shifted his weight on the hard stone steps. “It is, isn’t it?”  
  
“You’ve done it. You can relax now. A bit. However much it is you’re capable of relaxing.”  
  
“Okay.” Martin nodded. “I understand! But what do I do now? For Theresa?”  
  
“Go to her,” Douglas said. “Get on the first train to Lichtenstein. Show Theresa you’ll make space for her in your life.”  
  
“The first train? As in, tomorrow morning?”  
  
“Yes! You’ve already wasted, what, forty-eight hours?”  
  
“But I’m flying tomorrow-“  
  
_“Martin.”_  
  
“Yes, right, calling in sick.” He blew out a breath through pursed lips. “I suppose I’d-“  
  
“Not _now,_ my chivalrous chum. First thing when you wake up in the morning.”  
  
“Got it. And… thank you, Douglas.”  
  
“Any time, Number One.”  
  
*****  
  
Silence fell over the sitting room as Martin and Douglas returned.  
  
Douglas held his arms wide, relishing the attention. “We have a plan,” he announced.  
  
The remainder of OJS cheered. They lifted their mugs in a toast.  
  
“Brilliant!” Arthur gestured so enthusiastically that a little of his tea sloshed over the rim. “Christmas is saved!”  
  
“Thank you all,” Martin said. “And, Arthur, I’m sure this isn’t the Christmas you had planned.”  
  
“Well, no,” Arthur replied thoughtfully. “I had planned dinner and presents and singing carols…”  
  
“Well, there’s nothing to stop us singing-“ Martin cut himself off at the murderous look from Carolyn.  
  
“But we’re all together! And Martin and Theresa will be okay!”  
  
“I hope so, Arthur,” Martin said, with what he meant to be an optimistic smile, but was probably a grimace.  
  
“On the subject of singing…” Herc looked pointedly at Douglas. “Last Christmas.”  
  
“What? Oh, yes! Very good.”  
  
“What is it?” Carolyn asked.  
  
“Christmas Songs That Could Have Been Horror Films,” Herc answered.  
  
“Toyland,” Douglas suggested.  
  
Carolyn took a moment with her lips pursed. “Do You Hear What I Hear?”  
  
“Excellent!”  
  
Martin tittered. Then he blurted, “FROSTY THE SNOWMAN!”  
  
*****  
  
No matter how many times he did it, Martin never entirely got used to knocking on the door of a castle. Neither did he get used to the sight of the beautiful woman opening it.  
  
Martin drew himself up to his full height. He looked Theresa in her deep brown eyes, and he began the speech he had written, memorized, and rehearsed on the train. “Theresa, may I first-“  
  
“Oh, Martin!” And she flung herself onto him, pulling his head into her shoulder. She shook with quiet sobs.  
  
Martin never knew quite what to do when someone started crying. But he was glad to hold her, to inhale the scent of her hair. Something in her solidity made the possibility of losing her even more real, and more devastating. So he was quiet.  
  
After a few moments, Theresa stepped back. “But you should be flying to Athens!” she gasped, wiping her tears on a handkerchief.  
  
“I know. I called in sick.”  
  
“You did?”  
  
“Yes, well…” He swallowed uncomfortably. “There’s more to life than flying, isn’t there?”  
  
She laughed in disbelief. “There is?”  
  
“Like… apologies?”  
  
“Go on,” she said, but she was smiling.  
  
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. It’s just that- well- to be honest- I’m not exactly used to being needed by anyone.”  
  
Theresa nodded, her eyes searching his. “And I’m sorry for avoiding you.” Her face took on an impish expression. She pulled Martin closer by the hips. “ _How_ can I make it up to you?”  
  
“Oh… I’m sure you’ll find a way…” Martin attempted to keep his voice cool as heat spread over his cheeks.  
  
“Stop!” came a shrill voice from behind them. “You cannot kiss! I am your King and I forbid it!”  
  
“Maxie!” Theresa rounded on her little brother, so sharply that her hair whipped out and slapped Martin in the face. “If you don’t want to see us kissing, go and play somewhere else! We have thirty-six rooms!”  
  
“But it’s _my_ castle!”  
  
And Martin was actually grateful to be part of the ensuing argument.


End file.
